


From Tony to Tony

by onceinyourlife



Category: Glee, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-24 23:04:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2599793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onceinyourlife/pseuds/onceinyourlife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Gleevengers/Blaine Anderson-Stark drabble.<br/>"Tony was tired.</p><p>It’d been a long day, and every muscle in his body ached against the sweet relief of his multiple heating pads. He was in his favorite chair, with the perfect music playing, his eyes closed, totally and completely -</p><p>“Hey, Dad?”</p><p>And then there was Blaine."</p><p>Blaine asks his dad to see him in West Side Story. (Set in early season three.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Tony to Tony

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this story in 2012, and my renewed love of Gleevengers has gotten out of control. I'm slowly working on transferring my work from Tumblr and fanfiction.net to AO3! Very excited to be a part of this community. I hope you enjoy the story!

Tony was tired.

It’d been a long day, and every muscle in his body ached against the sweet relief of his multiple heating pads. He was in his favorite chair, with the perfect music playing, his eyes closed, totally and completely -

“Hey, Dad?”

And then there was Blaine.

Seventeen, and even though he watched his father on television almost every night, with no idea what it felt like to actually go out and do what Tony did.

Which is why Blaine stayed a few feet behind the chair, a few feet from the foot of the stairs, not wanting to make what he could tell had been a terrible day even worse. He could only see his dad’s legs propped up on the table in front of him, with a few new burns and scrapes juxtaposed against a perfect pair of Armani socks.

“Mmm?”

Tony was hoping Blaine would just say what he had to say and leave as soon as possible. He’d get back to Blaine, when it didn’t feel like his skin was on fire… particularly because it had been only a few hours ago.

“I just… um, what are - what are you doing on Friday night?”

Blaine had planned it all out, exactly how he was going to ask his father about this. No stuttering, perfectly set, no way he could say no.

But that was what had come out of his mouth instead.

Their relationship was confusing to say the least. He was Iron Man, but Tony was his dad too. He was just busy, and even though Blaine understood that, it didn’t make moments like this one any easier.

“Kid, you know I can’t give you an answer to that. Look, it’s been one hell of day, so could you please just -”

Tony hadn’t turned around, and Blaine could feel his lungs drying up.

“- leave? Okay? We can talk another time?”

Blaine swallowed. He should have seen this coming, and he knew they wouldn’t talk another time.

“Sure, yeah. Sorry… goodnight.”

Tony lifted a hand, and Blaine made his way back up to his bedroom.

Blaine fell onto his bed and carefully closed his eyes. He knew he shouldn’t have even said anything. It wasn’t worth it. And he knew that if he was Iron Man, well… he wouldn’t want anyone bothering him after a long day either.

That was something he’d told himself more times than he’d ever really wanted to.

He pledged that he would keep all conversations between the two of them from then until Friday completely off the subject of West Side Story, and he reminded himself to tell Pepper not to bring it up either.

She’d come, and it’d… it’d be great.

Just like the Warbler concerts, just like the piano recitals. It was time to get over it and remember that this was in no way a reflection on him. Of course not.

Tony Stark loved his son, he just couldn’t make it to a performance. It was that simple.

***

Blaine was sitting at his desk, his back to his bedroom door, working on his homework. The orange roses Pepper had given him after the performance filled the room with his favorite smell, and the blush still on his cheeks was starting to make his face itch.

There was a quiet knock on the door.

“Blaine?”

It was a little bit louder than a whisper, and Blaine just about jumped out of his seat.

He could have sworn his father was at a meeting with Nick and wouldn’t be home until well after he’d gone to sleep.

He kept his pencil to the page.

“Come in.”

The door slowly swung open, not making a sound, but Blaine could hear his dad’s feet pattering against the hardwood floor. Tony sat at the edge of his son’s bed and locked his eyes on the back of Blaine’s gelled head.

A familiar feeling, Tony thought.

How Tony had always approached his own father, how Blaine was always approaching him.

He didn’t know anything different.

“Pepper told me you were fantastic.”

Blaine sighed.

“She did?”

“She did.”

Blaine licked his lips and let his eyes flash so he could just make out his father’s expression that screamed, I know you’ll turn around before this conversation is over. You might as well go ahead and do it now.

But Blaine held his ground.

“I asked her not to say anything about it.”

He scribbled another section of a math problem in his notebook, and Tony just laughed.

“Now, why would you do something like that?”

He was just begging Blaine to turn around.

But his chair didn’t move.

“Because… because, well…”

Blaine blinked a few times, dropped his pencil, and turned his head to see his dad, clad only in a t-shirt and some old pants, his legs crossed and hands folded in his lap, perched on top of his worn bedspread.

He’d forgotten that his dad could look like that.

Like a normal guy… well, apart from the blue light barely visible through his dark shirt. That always reminded him.

Blaine turned his head back to the wall.

“Because you didn’t want to hear about it.”

Tony shifted a bit on the bed.

“Blaine, I always want to hear about it. I’m just…”

He laughed.

“Blaine, I am a very selfish man, and I -”

“You’re not selfish.”

Blaine spun his chair around to completely face his father and was surprised to see his dad’s wide eyes.

“People… people always say that you are, but they have no- they have no idea.”

Blaine blinked back the tears he couldn’t completely define.

“They don’t see you every day. They see you on television, and they… they see you in person too, and you just - you’re not that guy, and it makes me so mad when they just don’t -”

“You’re feeding an old man’s ego, kid. I’ve taught you well.”

Blaine smiled.

“I’m being serious, Dad.”

Tony nodded.

“I know you are. That’s my favorite of your qualities, you know? You’re genuine. You’re you, and you don’t let anyone take that away from you. You don’t lose it for anything, even when I don’t come to your play.”

Blaine shrugged.

Tony sighed and shook his head.

“I’m sorry. I should have been there.”

“It’s okay. You -”

“It’s not okay. I didn’t listen when you tried to tell me, and we have listen to each other, because for some unknown reason, well… you just hear me like nobody else does, and there’s nothing fair about you hearing me and me not hearing you.”

Blaine couldn’t think of the right words to say.

Tony kept his eyes fixed on his son and resisted the temptation to answer the phone he could feel buzzing in his left pant pocket.

“But I’m absolutely terrible at being a fair man, and I’m certainly not an easy person to talk to, Blaine. There’s a reason why no one ever really wants to. Besides being incredibly intimidated by my charm, wit, and intelligence, that is.”

Blaine tried to smile, and Tony hoped he’d realized that was intended to be a joke.

“I messed up, and I’m sorry. And I’m… I’m really proud of you.”

Blaine knew what that meant, and he held on to the moment.

The sleazy, self-involved, engineering genius was proud of his gay, theatre-loving son.

Tony stood up and grabbed Blaine’s chin, gently lifting his face to get a better look at it.

“That much blush, really?”

Blaine frowned.

“It’s a play, Dad.”

Tony dropped his hand and turned to leave.

“I’m just saying, kid… if you’re going to portray my namesake, does it have to be so pink?”

“It brings out my cheekbones!”

Tony raised his hands in surrender and agreed that his son wearing make-up was just another one of those things he would never really be able to get used to.

“Wait, you were named after Tony in West Side Story?”

Tony turned back around, opening the door as he did so.

“Goodnight, Blaine.”

Blaine smiled, and agreed that playing Tony was just about as close as he would ever get to emulating the Tony that stood across the room from him.

“Goodnight, Dad.”


End file.
